


Business Class

by Littlemistake



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: AU - Modern Setting, Ben is on his way to a funeral, Ben needs a release, F/M, Strangers to Lovers, comfort smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-18 18:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21531223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlemistake/pseuds/Littlemistake
Summary: Ben Solo is cocooned in the safety of the Business Lounge at Heathrow Airport, waiting to fly back home to attend a funeral. When he meets a fellow passenger, Rey, their connection turns out to be far more than he anticipated.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 55
Kudos: 277
Collections: The Thirst Order - TWD House Swolo, Thirstie Gifting Season 2019 - The Thirst Order





	Business Class

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kahli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kahli/gifts).



> This a gift fic for Kahli. The prompts were - modern setting, smut, angst, strangers to lovers - so this is what I came up with. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Thank you for the beta and alpha [spacey_gracie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacey_gracie). . And for pointing out that my smut has far fewer grammatical errors than the rest of the story. Telling, don't you think?
> 
> Thank you for the alpha [TazWren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TazWren).

Ben Solo was annoyed that the online check-in system was down for his unexpected trip from London to New York, which meant he had to wait at the counter.

He sighed impatiently, idly scanning the crowd.

He saw her first, queuing with all the other economy travellers. He, of course, was in the shorter line with the red carpet treatment at his feet and within the smile the attendant greeted him with, as he stepped up to the counter.

But, he was unhappy to have his time wasted all the same. 

“Do you have any luggage to check, Mr. Solo?” smiled the blonde. She certainly seemed to have perked up the moment she saw who her next customer was.

“No.”

He couldn’t wait for the peace and quiet within the Business Lounge. The line next to him was full of the old, the young, the stupid and the disorganised. He couldn’t wait to get away from them. 

He watched as the brunette dropped her bag to be weighed for check in at the counter next to him. It looked to be awkward, carrying the heavy bag and the rather bulky jacket at the same time. The deep tan leather was cracked and worn, as if it had seen many travels. It was as ragged as its owner, her hair in three buns with loose tendrils around her pretty face. It was a pretty face, he thought to himself, even though her appearance was dishevelled. 

Her grey wrap-around dress looked like the kind one would find at an adventure apparel store. Simple, nondescript, made for washing out in the shower after a long day’s travel, and then hung over the shower screen to air dry overnight.

Her smile as she spoke to the attendant was as disarming as it was captivating, and he could see the dimples that appeared in her cheeks.

“Your ticket, Mr. Solo,” the blonde said brightly.

He nodded his thanks and made his way to security; the wheels of his expensive carry-on luggage were silent against the concrete floor, while his well-heeled shoes made a satisfying click with each step. 

Thirty minutes later he sunk into the deep chairs of the Business Lounge, neat whiskey in hand. A brief reprieve before he boarded his flight to New York.

Home – well, what used to be home.

He sighed and rubbed at his temple, resisting the urge to down his drink in one go. He knew given the circumstances, it was entirely understandable. But he wouldn’t allow the tight binds he wound around himself to be loosened.

Not even on this day.

He stared vacantly out the floor-to-ceiling windows, seeing but not really noticing the planes making their departures and arrivals. It was all familiar, hardly fascinating to him anymore.

Not like the first time he saw his father off at JFK. Ben remembered his awe and wonder at seeing the big birds lift into the sky. Back then it had almost defied reality; now it was simply a way to get from A to B.

He pushed the thought from his mind, and decided it best to run through the long list of business reports he needed to digest before the annual general meeting in seven days. Because he would be returning in seven days, he told himself decisively. He pulled out his laptop and plugged the power cord firmly into the charging station next to his chair.

_ Board, land, pay my respects, then hop on the next flight back to Heathrow. _

To his surprise, the woman from the check-in line walked through the sliding doors of the lounge. She stood still for a moment, still clutching her oversized coat over her arm. She seemed ill at ease of her surroundings, as if not sure of what to expect or how to behave.

First timer, he thought. He saw that look at least once per visit, the wonder of being admitted into the secret club known as the Business Lounge.

She wandered over to the breakfast buffet, picking up a plate with her free hand. Ben watched as she struggled handling both. He wasn’t usually given to bouts of kindness towards strangers, but there was something that called out to him to offer her assistance.

“You can check your coat in reception,” he suggested, taking another sip of his whiskey.

She turned to face him, a shy smile spreading across her face. Her dimples reappeared.

“I look that awkward?” she said with a soft chuckle.

“A little,” he said. He was unable to stop himself from smiling back, which was a strange thing for him to do on this day of all days. “Plus, I would steer clear of the poached eggs; no matter which airport I am in they are always overdone.”

“Thanks,” she said, blowing a stray tendril from her face. “I’ll be back”, she added, in one of the more bastardised Terminator imitations he could recall in living memory. It was rather endearing, delivered in her English accent.

She returned a few minutes later, sans her coat. He noticed as she served herself from the breakfast buffet that she avoided the poached eggs, as he had suggested. She piled her plate up high, as if wanting to get her money’s worth from her visit. Once she had taken her fill, she looked around nervously, rolling her lips as she eyed the empty chair across from him.

“Be my guest,” he nodded.

This time he noticed how her hazel eyes sparkled when she smiled.

As she sank into the chair, she carefully transferred her plate from her hand to her knee, shifting to get the balance right. She tucked another stray tendril behind her ear before beginning to wolf her scrambled eggs down. 

“I’m Rey,” she said in between bites.

“Ben,” was his reply.

He watched her, his business documents forgotten, as the odd morsel of egg slipped from her fork and onto her chest. He resisted the urge to brush it away. He didn’t need to be hauled off by airport security for indecently assaulting a woman.

Not today of all days. He had a flight to catch.

_ Board, land, pay my respects, then jump on the next flight back to Heathrow. Attend the meeting. _

She wasn’t paying that much attention to him in any case, her focus was on the view to the runway outside. She gulped down her eggs before she spoke.

“They seem to defy belief, don’t they?” she said thoughtfully.

“Hmmm?” he said; he had been distracted by how attractive she was. More than just attractive, utterly gorgeous if not a little scruffy.

“The planes, the way they lift into the sky, so heavy and yet so powerful.” She explained. “I mean, I know how they work, but it doesn’t mean it still doesn’t fascinate me.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

“Sorry, you must think I’m a bit of an idiot. It’s my first time in the Business Lounge,” she smiled sheepishly.

“No, really?” he replied, merriment dancing in his voice.

She pursed her lips, but he could tell she wasn’t really offended; the twinkle in her eyes told him so. He relaxed a little more, the reports forgotten as he remained captivated by the woman opposite him. She was nothing like the tall icy blondes he pursued from time to time. He couldn’t imagine taking her to a work function or society event; she didn’t compliment his style at all. She didn’t know what to wear, how to hold herself, how to brush her hair or how to eat using utensils properly.

He wondered if the reason his unexpected interest had anything to do with the circumstances of his travel.

“Work won’t spring for business class, but I get to keep the points when I fly,” she shrugged. “So, I thought I would treat myself. I heard it was nice in these places.”

He lent forward to speak in a conspiratol hushed tone.

“Did you know they have complementary massages here?” He hadn’t intended to take anyone on the Business Lounge Induction tour today, but he found her enthusiasm delightful. 

“No! Get out!” she said, her jaw dropping with excitement.

“I will not get out,” he said evenly as he sat back.

“Why the heck are you working when you could be getting a massage?” she asked incredulously.

He sighed, and wondered if she had a point.

“I have an important business meeting next week. My travel to New York has been unexpected, so I need to take this time to be prepared,” he explained.

Her face lit up.

“I’m going to New York too! Are you flying Republic Airways?”

A warmth spread from his belly to his chest. He was perplexed at his reaction to what was really quite a banal conversation with a strange woman who had questionable style. He usually kept these things to a minimum, yet he found himself enthralled with her and even just a little excited at the idea that they would be travelling together. But not in the same section of the plane, of course.

“I am,” he replied. “What is the nature of your travel?”

He could have kicked himself for opening up that can of worms, because now it could lead to her asking him the same question. He was in no mood for personal conversations today, or any day for that matter.

“For work,” she said. “I’m a mechanical engineer with Resistance Construction and I need to go check out one of our new facilities. I’ve never been to New York before, so I’m topping and tailing with some sightseeing for a few weeks to make the most of it. What about you?”

He paused, searching for a suitably vague but good enough answer.

“Family business, hopefully shouldn’t take too long. I need to be back in time for my meeting.”

He had to admit, he was relieved that he had work as an excuse to leave New York. It was better than to have to stay and be asked awkward questions for which he did not have answers to.

“What kind of family business?” She really was too inquisitive for his liking, he decided. People should know better than to pry.

“A funeral. No one important,” he said evasively, although he knew immediately he had given too much away. 

She narrowed her eyes at his statement. “You are travelling to New York… for a funeral for someone who is not important?”

He shifted his eyes from her face, to avoid her scrutiny. He was trying to think of a non-answer answer when something else caught his eye.

“God dammit!” he exclaimed.

“What?” she responded, swivelling her head in the direction that he was looking.

“Fruit loops!” she exclaimed when she realised what the issue was.

“A four hour delay,” he groaned, turning to face her again.

“Yeah, guess I will be getting my money’s worth,” she said with a rueful grin. “Could be worse…” 

He rolled his lips together; he wasn’t imagining the strange connection between them. She felt it too. It seemed they would have more time together, for what he didn’t know - they were strangers after all. After this conversation they would never see each other again. Eventually, they would each forget the conversation that had passed the hours away, in a business lounge at Heathrow Airport. But for now it seemed a very pleasant way to spend time.

That is what he told himself.

“Could be.”

She stood, brushing the egg remnants onto the floor. “I’m going to get some pancakes. You want me to get you anything?”

Add messy to the list of attributes as well, he thought.

“No, thank you.”

As she walked to the buffet table, he closed his laptop. Suddenly the reports and papers that awaited his perusal were not that important, or interesting. As he finished his drink, he observed her, wincing as she slathered maple syrup liberally over her rather large stack of pancakes.

He didn’t think her sweater would make it through her feast.

She returned, once again balancing her plate carefully as she sat. The syrup oozed dangerously close to the edge of the plate, and he held his breath wondering if it would spill over. He hurriedly grabbed the napkin that had accompanied his drink to prevent the syrup from doing just that. 

His fingers brushed up against her hand, and they gasped as the pulse of desire passed what was essentially an innocent and accidental touch. Her mouth remained slightly open as her eyes, wide with surprise, lifted to meet his and a flush of colour began to bloom in her cheeks. The warmth of the syrup met his thumb and without thinking he stuck it in his mouth to suck it clean. An intensity crossed her face; he knew that expression – for it was identical to his.

The air crackled between them, there was no mistake. 

He withdrew, sitting back into his chair and the moment was gone. He was not here for that. 

He was going to New York to pay his respects.

Her face clouded with confusion. He didn’t like that he was the cause, and he searched his mind desperately to come up with a solution that didn’t involve a repeat performance of what had just transpired.

They sat in awkward silence for a moment. She sighed, and began to wolf down her pancakes.

“Massage,” he said suddenly. “Let’s book one.”

Her eyes went wide in surprise. “I’m not getting naked in front of you, we only just met.”

It was his turn to blush this time.

“No, not like that, we remain fully clothed. I could use a neck rub, how about you?”

“Oh, sure,” she shrugged after taking a moment to process the new information. “Sounds like fun.”

He felt relief flood him, although he wasn’t sure why he should care so much. She was just a stranger in a business lounge. Someone to pass the time with and then forget.

“I’ll be back.” His Terminator impression was far better than hers, he noted. At the same time – what the hell was he doing making a Terminator impression? She choked on her pancakes a little as she laughed. He felt like being a goofball to make her laugh, and it was worth it.

It didn’t take long to make the arrangements for the massage, he was used to executing plans.

“Forty-five minutes,” he said upon his return. “Long enough for another round of pancakes.”

She leant back and patted her rounded stomach. “I have one food baby in me right now, I don’t need twins.”

He blinked at her in disbelief. The women he generally chose to keep company with didn’t bring attention to the fact that they had had too much to eat – actually they rarely ate at all, and certainly not a big stack of pancakes or a load of scrambled eggs. She was quite unlike anyone he had ever met. She was entirely without grace, airs or decorum, and was totally, utterly beguiling.

He sat back down.

“While we wait, tell me a little bit about yourself Rey,” he offered.

For the next twenty minutes or thereabouts, she held him entranced in her life story. How she grew up never really knowing her parents (lucky her, he thought dryly, then chided himself for such as uncharitable thought), had bounced around the foster system until she was eighteen, and then how she turned her love for tinkering with machines into a career. He was captivated by her enthusiasm; she seemed to miss the chip on her shoulder or bitterness that he would expect from growing up the way she did. She appeared comfortable in herself. Balanced.

He paused to reflect on his own, far more privileged but similarly lonely upbringing. The chip on his own shoulder was clearly evident. He wore it like a badge to warn people away, it served him well because keeping others away was exactly what it had achieved. 

He broke from his reverie to see her looking at him expectantly. He realised it was now his turn to share.

He started carefully, fearful that he could lead himself down a path that went too far, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. He needed to retain his composure for the flight and what was waiting for him in New York. He pushed down the grief, tried to retain his grip on it – lest it turn and he fell into its clutches.

He spoke of large country estates, New York townhouses, nannies and paid staff to attend to his every need. Of his mother the senator, and his father….the  _ entrepreneur _ , was how her political entourage encouraged the press to describe him. The adventurer. 

He described private schools where he was surrounded by his peers, but had no one to really connect with. Of throwing himself into his studies and his career. Of an absent father and a distant mother. Before long, he found himself in uncharted territory, sharing intimate details of himself that he kept locked away for safekeeping. While his mind was screaming at him to stop, to abort this endeavour and retreat to the safety of board papers and preparing for the big meeting, the cold wall around his heart began to crumble a little. All the while she listened intently, he didn’t feel her judgment – he just felt her compassion and understanding.

He thought to himself that he ought to be grateful she was a stranger and that he would never see her again. Perhaps they might smile and wave as he took his seat at the front end of the plane while she made her way down to the back, but after this conversation, there would be no further real awkwardness.

He stopped himself before making the final confession. That would be too much to bear and his grief lapped at the edges of his soul. He could not allow himself to become swamped, otherwise his plan to board, land, pay his respects and then return to London would be dashed. He didn’t know what the alternative looked like, and he feared it.

But it seemed like the opportunity to hold back had passed. His grief washed over him like a tsunami. His hands held a vice like grip on the arms of his chair, painfully aware that he was about to break down in the business lounge at Heathrow airport based on a conversation with a stranger. His eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape route, but his mind was filled with happy memories tinged with bitterness and regret and he found himself unable to focus. It was overwhelming.

“Ben?” her soft voice called out to him, much closer than he had expected. “Ben, what’s wrong?” He followed the trail of her voice to find her crouched before him, concern and worry radiating from her face and she chewed her lip.

“Do you want to go somewhere private?” she asked.

He nodded mutely, tears pricking at his eyes and what felt like an anvil sitting on his chest. 

“Ben, I don’t know where to go. You need to tell me.” She whispered, her warm hand gently covering his. 

“Showers,” he croaked, his voice betraying how lost he was to his emotions.

Rey squeezed his hand and lifted it to encourage him to rise to his feet. She didn’t let go as she walked towards the signs that pointed the way to the shower facilities. He followed her blindly, his tears obscuring his view. They turned the corner to the amenities wing and she led them into the first cubicle. It was the size of a small bathroom, with a toilet, shower and wash basin. There was a stool in one corner, and she gently sat him down.

She stood before him and silently wrapped her arms around his shoulders, bringing him in close. His arms automatically threaded around her waist and he clung to her as he released the emotions he had kept bottled up since he had received the phone call the day before. His sobs echoed around the confined space, matched only by soothing hum of her voice as she stroked his hair and encouraged him to let go.

It had been so long since he had been held like that, the women he spent intimate time with cared not for true intimacy – the being vulnerable, naked and exposed in front of another person. Yet, this stranger with questionable style and very little sense of decorum had touched a part of him that he refused to acknowledge even existed.

Eventually, his sobs subsided into hitches of breath that caught in his chest. He felt exhausted, wrung out but at the same time – cleansed. Released. 

He was the first to break the silence.

“It was my father.” he said, his voice still muffled as his face pressed against her abdomen.

He heard her sharp intake of breath.

“I’m so sorry” Her hand had not stopped stroking his hair, it was incredibly soothing and he felt himself open up a little more.

“I got the phone call yesterday from my mother, to tell me that he was gone. His light aircraft crashed into a sand dune in the Gobi Desert. I guess he died doing what he loved most; he certainly loved adventure more than he loved me,” he said bitterly, forgetting to appear unmoved by this fact. 

She lifted his chin so he was looking at her, and she brushed the remaining tears from his face.

“I’m sure he loved you,” she suggested gently. Her hazel eyes were soft as they gazed down at him.

“Now I will never get to say the things I wanted to say to him.” His voice cracked with emotional intensity. 

“Tell me what you would say to him,” she said.

Ben took a deep breath, he felt himself go rigid at the painful memory he was about to share. But there was something soft and safe with her, it was rare for him to feel this way.

“Part of the reason for the distance between us was that I was a shadow of the man he was. He always seemed so strong and brave, I idolised him. Each time he left it on a new adventure it broke a part of me. So I started to beg him to take me too – which eventually, after wearing him down, he did.”

“When I was ten, I was to join him white water rafting down the Colorado River after the thaw. I was terrified at the idea of it, but I couldn’t tell him. I was afraid that he would think less of me, so I thought I could push through my fear, hide from him how scared I was. But I was wrong, we made the long trek up to the launching point – but I couldn’t even put my foot in the raft. I was frozen. I could see how disappointed he was, he tried to tell me that it was alright. But I wouldn’t listen, I wouldn’t believe him.”

He realised that his fingers were digging into her ass, then it dawned on him that she hadn’t tried to shift, or squirm. She had remained solid, unmoving except for the soft stroke of her hand across his hair. It was distracting and comforting at the same time, so he decided his hands could remain where they were for the time being.

“So what I would say to him is, sorry that I shut down and that I shut you out. Dad, I really missed you. I would also say that I was mad at him too, mad that he didn’t try harder afterwards. He just stayed away a little more.”

He buried his face into her stomach again, shedding tears of regret. His muffled sobs echoed softly in the confined space of the bathroom. Rey continued to hold him; he was grateful that she didn’t try to convince him that he was wrong or that he was mistaken. She seemed to understand him and what he needed. 

He huffed hard against her flat stomach, it felt like an enormous weight had been lifted just to have been able to say the words and to have been heard.

He let out a soft laugh and looked up at her again.

“Better?” she asked.

“Better,” he replied.

There was another stirring that was finding its way through him, he was vulnerable and exposed in a way that he had never been before. There was something else now too, a desire to be connected to this woman. He didn’t understand how it could be like this, he was a man ruled by his head and logic. Never by his emotions.

He felt the energy between them shift. A moment ago it was his grief and her comfort that beat within them, but now there was a new tension.

She moved the hand at his hair down to caress his face, he realised that she was tracing the constellation of moles on his face. His breath began to catch in his throat as he sensed they were moving to something different. Her eyes were dark as she brushed the pad of her thumb against his mouth. He moved to nuzzle her palm, surprising them both as he pressed his lips to her.

He looked up at her again, his eyes asking her if he should go further. She nodded, her lips parting as he began to plant soft kisses along the path the veins wove on her inner arm. As he reached the crook of her elbow he began to suck and nip at the skin he found there. She shivered and swayed ever so slightly so he cradled her arm in one hand while the other snaked around her to keep her steady.

“Is this going where I think it is going?” he asked against her skin, his voice deep with emotion.

Her eyes held his.

“Yes, if you want it too. Are you alright to do this?” He could see the concern on her face, and it made him pull toward her all the more.

“I really… feel almost like I  _ need _ to, but only if you want to,” he confessed.

She nodded in agreement. “I feel it too.”

She broke free of his grasp, her fingers deft as he worked at the knot at her hip that held her dress together. As she pulled it free it fell open to reveal her beautiful, toned body. She was wearing a simple white cotton bra and panties, but it made his mouth water at the sight of her. He placed his hands at her waist and pulled her to his lap. She went willingly, falling into him. Her arms threaded around his neck as their lips met. At first their kiss was tentative, growing deeper as their building passion whirled around them.

Her hands were in his hair as her arms rested on his shoulders. Her lips were so soft, and the small whimpers that escaped them only drove him to kiss her deeper.

As she straddled him she began to rock her pelvis to his, the friction like electricity through him as he felt himself swell. They moaned in unison and his slid his hands down under her backside to pull her closer to him. She gasped as the full force of his hardness brushed up against her. 

“That feels so good,” she panted, her back arching as he rubbed his length against her panties. He followed her, leaning forward to capture her nipple in his mouth, sucking through the thin cotton of her bra. She pushed him closer to her as he kneaded her ass, before pulling his hair to angle his face back to hers. 

“I want to help you feel better,” she said, looking deep into his eyes. Her face was flushed and her lips swollen from their passion. “Sit back, let me take care of you.”

She pushed him back against the wall, and moved to stand. He watched as she slid her dress from her shoulders where it fell to the floor. Her bra and panties soon followed, till she stood before him, naked and beautiful. 

“You are like an angel,” he said, looking at her in wonder.

“Angels don’t do this,” she said thickly, her hands suddenly at his zipper. She quickly freed his erection, shucking his pants and underwear to the floor. “I don’t want your trousers to get mussed up,” she explained. Her eyes grew wide as she looked at his length; she bit her lip and began to gently palm him. He groaned, reaching to pull her to him.

She straddled him again, this time lining him up with her entrance. She slowly sank down, drawing him into her. She was hot, wet and tight around him. Her face was that of intense surprise and intimate pleasure, her mouth open in a silent moan. 

Once he was fully seated in her, she shuddered against him, collapsing for just a moment before pulling herself upright again. She swayed slightly, heavy lidded, taking deep breaths as she stared into his eyes. His hands were reassuringly at her hips, holding her in place.

There was nothing else for him in that moment. There was just this woman, this beautiful stranger who had reached him in a way that those who had known him his entire life had been unable to. Who was freely giving herself to him for his comfort and for their pleasure. All his grief, loneliness and fears had melted away just for this brief interlude. He knew these feelings would return; passion with a beautiful woman was no cure for all his troubles, but for this moment he basked in the reprieve.

She threaded her arms around him neck, cradling his face into her bare shoulder. He pressed his lips to her satiny skin, and she slowly began to rock him inside her. He groaned against her as she stuttered, righting herself again to roll him within her in a slow languid rhythm. Her moments were tender, gentle and kind, yet filled with a passion he had not experienced before. She continued to hold him to her, and all he had to do was be held and comforted.

Her long moans dispelled any concern he might have for her own pleasure, she was growing tighter around him, gripping and pulsing as she did. She was so warm and soft against him, outside and within. He wanted to give her more, he wanted to reciprocate all that she was giving to him.

“May I touch you?” he rasped.

“Please,” she nodded.

He moved a hand in between their bodies to stroke her, causing her to throw back her head and arch her back in ecstasy. He felt himself grow harder again as her grip around him strengthened.

The tiles were cold and hard against the back of his head, which he registered somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind. But he couldn’t pay it any real attention, not while he was seated deep within her and they were connected like no other. She returned to his mouth, holding him close as she kissed him while she softly stroked his hair. Sometimes she would break their kiss to whisper in his ear that it was going to be alright, he would get through, even though it was hard. Even though it hurt.

She told him she could see how strong he was, how self reliant. Then, she whispered to him to let go. To let her take care of him. All this while she rocked, ground and rolled around him, his hand still increasing her pleasure until eventually the power of speech left her. 

He was lost to her in the moment when he came, pulsing and hot within her. He was without control, his instincts working to chase all the pleasure he could, driving him to thrust up into her. Her feet no longer touched the floor, her knees rising in the air as her own climax overtook. They groaned in unison as her weight shifted, centring it deeper on where they were connected. Her body shook from the intensity and she collapsed onto him, her breaths coming in uneven rasps.

“Thank you,” he murmured into her hair. She didn’t respond, still trying to catch her breath. “I didn’t know that was what I needed. But it was.”

He felt a kind of peace that he had not sensed in as long as he could remember. 

She nodded mutely into his shoulder, then lifted her head to look at him.

“I think we need to take a shower,” she said slowly. “In a moment, after I have the power to move again.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” he agreed. “I would like that.”

She moaned as she stood, then again as she picked up her dress. She laughed as she held it up to inspect it.

“I think this needs a wash too,” she said ruefully.

“Oh, I cried all over you, please let me get it cleaned properly.” He was mortified, he felt shame begin to creep back in as he looked at the evidence of how he had lost his composure.

She shook her head. “Really, it’s just fine, I can rinse it out as we bathe. I think economy can handle a slightly damp but clean dress.”

He frowned as he realised that in less than three hours she would be sitting apart from him. It felt unbearable after the intimacy they had shared.

He spoke without thinking.

“I want you to join me, Rey. I want to spend more time with you, and it might be my undoing to have you so close but so far away,” he blurted.

“You don’t have to,” she shook her head. “I will be fine.”

He held out his hand, and felt relief flood him as she accepted his gesture.

“Please,” he asked softly.

She looked down at him, and it was like all was right with the world.

“Alright then, if you insist,” she chuckled. “Now, it’s shower time.”

He watched her as she moved into the shower cubicle, the warm water eliciting a groan from her once the temperature was right. He had the sense that something special existed between them, all because of a chance encounter at a business lounge. He wondered if she had been been carrying that jacket, would he have spoken to her? Probably not, his head would have remained buried in his reports and preparation for the meeting. She may have just as easily been a passing diversion at the check-in counter and nothing more.

But now he was caught in her orbit, and it was exactly as it should be. He thought about his father, and about what he might say to his mother when he saw her. He felt a shift within him, like a soothing balm had been applied to his soul in the form of a messy, beautiful and adorable woman. He didn’t want to let this chance slip away from him, at a different kind of happiness than the one he had mapped out.

He hoped she felt the same way. 

Given the circumstances of his travel, he though the other board members would do without him for the meeting next week. He had things to attend to in New York that were far more important.

_ Upgrade her ticket, board, land, pay his respects, talk to his mother and hopefully mend some fences, spend time getting to know Rey better.  _

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this story. If you enjoyed it, maybe you might enjoy some of my other works:
> 
> Soft and porny  
> [Son of a Preacher Man](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19937509). Rated E, 17/18 (just about to finish) In 1969, Pastor Han Solo and his son Ben arrive in a small town in the deep south. Rey is immediately drawn to Ben, but she soon senses that all is not what it seems when it comes to Ben and his father. What is the secret they are keeping, and will it tear Rey's world apart?
> 
> Funny and porny  
> [Rey’s Spit Roast to the Rescue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21418585). Rated E, 1/1, Complete Rey has been salivating after Ben Solo, while doing the catering for his new movie. Today is a special day - his first full frontal nude scene, so Rey prepares a special meal in honour of the great man. 
> 
> [The Cable Guy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19025113/chapters/45183406). Rated E, 5/5, Complete Ben is a cable technician... and Rey has a lot of trouble with her cable. A LOT OF TROUBLE!
> 
> [Tousled Tresses](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18704443/chapters/44361079). Rated E, 3/3, Complete. Rey has just started a new rewards program at the hair salon she and Rose run together. It’s called the “Special Customers Club.” Current Membership - 1
> 
> Adventurous and porny  
> [I’ll make a man out of you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20270341/chapters/48048070). Rated E, 5/7, Incomplete - will be finished before TROS 
> 
> Porny but at work this time  
> [Window to My Soul](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18813127/chapters/44640265). Rated E, 9/9, Complete. Life is treating Rey really well. New job, new office, and a hunky stud muffin occupying the office across from hers. Pity it turns out he is her mortal corporate enemy, and she promised never to fraternize with the competition.
> 
> Just plain porn  
> [ The things I will do to you little one](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19201492). Having a panic attack at an assignment due tomorrow Student Rey turns up at her stuffy English professor’s office hoping to get some help. Instead she finds Professor Ren in a compromising position watching porn on his phone. 
> 
> Then there is also what my wonderful beta Spacey_Gracie is working on. [Dreamland](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19872280), Rated E, Incomplete 1911 - Brooklyn, New York. Ben and his friends sneak away from Snoke's boarding school for a day of fun at Coney Island. Little does he know he will meet a girl who will change not only the way he looks at the world, but eventually the course of his life.


End file.
